Wind like Wolves Howling
by Hecatonchires
Summary: A young Wyvern fights a losing battle alongside his master against the demon hosts of Zvahl


The battle raged, a cluster of bodies dancing wildly about in the flickering torchlight far below. Lumiere gathered strength and dove into the melee, claws striking sparks against metallic demon-armor.

_Master needs me. This isn't right... There's too many of them. Too many..._

Tucking in a wing to narrowly roll out of a black great sword's arc, Lumiere wheeled about and spewed flame at a shambling form. The demon screeched and clawed at its face as its eyes were burned from their sockets. Battle was no new thing to the young Wyvern, but he had never known such intensity or desperation as in the tableau before him. He had known something like this was coming days earlier; his master had attempted to explain... But the words made little sense to Lumiere, he only knew a fight was brewing. What he had not known was the deadly earnest in which the battle was waged.

A long journey through strange white fields with winds that howled like wolves and stung like bees had brought them to this strange, black castle. As soon as they had entered, screeching cries like Lumiere had never heard filled the air, black armored creatures rushing from the halls... So, these were Demons. Tall, black, and covered in jagged, spiny hide almost like metal, these were the favored servants of the Shadow Lord. The Sacred Crest sealed upon Lumiere's back burned as they rushed. It was then he knew.

_Not normal enemies. Not even beastmen. These are Evil... They walk like people, but inside are full of darkness. Nothing like people... They are unnatural. They need to die._

And so the battle was joined, Hume, Elvaan, and Taru alike standing to meet the ebon rush as Lumiere circled uneasily. The fighting ranged all up and down the halls of the black keep, demon death-howls and the less-chilling cries of the Northlands expedition's fallen echoing above the clash of steel. Lumiere dove in and out of the conflict, snapping at an errant limb here, sending probing tongues of flame onto a combatant there... But the battle was not going well. The sheer weight of the demon horde was slowly wearing down the expedition, pushing them back, making them stumble and fall to be butchered. Eventually, only one knot of rapidly diminishing survivors remained. Lumiere swooped low to his master, uncertain what to do next.

Desperate chanting reached Lumiere's ears, and he turned to see a Taru frantically motioning as strange, colored sparks swirled about him. He rose his hands, giving a relieved cry even as a black blade took the head from his shoulders. A bright flash dazzled Lumiere's eyes, and before he could make sense of things... They were outside. The black halls, the demons, the ring of combat, all were gone. Only the huddled survivors and the headless Taru, life's blood seeping into the frozen earth, remained in a sea of white.

_Two? Only two?! Master and his friend. No... Only master. His friend is hurt too badly. He can't make it. Master and I are the only ones left._

The young Hume, Master's friend, spoke in a numbed tone, oblivious to his shattered armor and the great rent in his side. He sat for a moment, wanting to rest a little before pressing on... I was not until Lumiere's master pointed at the blood frozen in rivulets down the Hume's side that the Paladin seemed to realize just how wounded he was. Shaking his head, he rose and took several unsteady steps before falling face long, pushing up furrows in the white ground. The Dragoon kneeled next to his fallen friend as quiet words were exchanged...

Finally, Lumiere's master stood and began to walk away with an unsettled expression on his face. Lumiere had only seen that expression a few times before, when Master was worried or thinking very hard about something. Through the empathic link they shared, a clear command rang. Though it confused him, the young wyvern landed in the snow next to the dying Hume to obey.

"_Grant him his final wish"... Here? Now? I don't understand. His eyes are already closed, he must be dead. But, Master must have a reason for it..._

Crouching low in the white glare, full of doubts, Lumiere granted a dying man's final wish.


End file.
